To Be a Mudblood Slytherin
by Confuzd Lives
Summary: COMPLETE! I am Daphne Greengrass and I am a Mudblood in a time when it most surely means my death. Implied DM/DG.
1. Prologue: Extraordinary

**Prologue**

_Extraordinary_

Mr. and Mrs. Greengrass were quite ordinary; some may even go as far as boring. But this gossip fell to deaf ears for they were closed to criticism and were in the midst of young love.

It wasn't long after their marriage when Mrs. Greengrass found herself pregnant with the couple's firstborn, Daphne.

As young, inexperienced parents, they learned much in those first months and were well prepared for Astoria when she came along, but there were some very unordinary things about young Daphne.

Mr. and Mrs. Greengrass were quite sure that they did not have a dog, but when it came down to those awful peas that little Daphne detested so, the peas would simply disappear and both adults could swear that they had heard the slobbering, slurping sounds of a dog licking and chewing. Then there were the wall drawings. Daphne thoroughly enjoyed drawing on the walls. While she sat with her nose in the corner her father would scrub the wall clean, but strangely enough, someone would walk by shortly afterwards and find the same scrawling "masterpiece" boldly redrawn. Yet Mr. and Mrs. Greengrass always found Daphne still sniffling away in her corner.

But as parents would, they turned a blind eye to the weird occurrences and raised their daughters as though they were both as ordinary as themselves.

Of course this practice was brought to a halt when Daphne turned eleven years old and a strict looking woman dressed in emerald green robes appeared at their door.

From then on Mr. and Mrs. Greengrass embraced their daughter's strange abilities for they were informed by the odd woman that Daphne was a witch.

Yes, an honest-to-god witch.


	2. Whispers

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**Chapter One**

_Whispers_

The Hogwarts Express is subdued. It's strange to ride the train when it sounds as silent as the grave. There are no children laughing merrily or shouting to one another in the corridor; rather everyone is tucked away in the compartments whispering about the past, present, and future horrors.

I'm sure you have heard of Albus Dumbledore's death. It seems that the man said to have killed the legend will be taking up post as the new Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It truly is a shame. Not to mention that the teachers taking up the positions of Defense Against the Dark Arts and Muggle Studies are rumored to be Death Eaters. What has our beloved school come to?

I suppose it makes perfect sense that the Ministry placed these teachers in their respective places. I have heard it whispered that the Ministry has fallen to the Dark Lord. It would make perfect sense with the late Minister, Rufus Scrimgeour, rumored to be dead. It would make for the perfect explanation for the Muggleborn Register and the deadly fear at the pit of my stomach.

Tracey Davis and Theodore Nott are speaking quietly across from me. It seems that they are discussing what Draco Malfoy may be up to. I would suggest that neither of them speak of Draco for we three know that he and his family are not held in good regards with the Dark Lord at the moment. It is never a good idea to whisper about those who have fallen on poor times when He may find out. He may decide that you deserve to fall on poor times also.

I hate the silence of the train; it allows my mind to wander. I find myself wondering what Draco is up to, even though I know better. I can imagine him sitting on his four-poster looking out the window wishing to escape. I can also see him sitting in a room at a large, circular table with many darkly robed people whose faces are all in shadow for my imagination fails me there. But my imagination does conjure up a fearful Dark Lord. I shrink farther into my seat as the train comes to a stop in Hogsmeade.

Like all of the other students, I can feel the cold, dead air. I know what waits for me on the Hogsmeade platform. I have never felt fear, nor ever felt the need to be afraid, when aboard the Hogwarts Express. Yes, when the dementors searched the train for Sirius Black, I had thought I was afraid. But now I know that that was nothing compared to the awaiting Death Eaters and their leashed dementors. It is easy to fear when I am an unregistered Mudblood.

My fellow Slytherins are an excellent shield. My impure blood status is not common knowledge, allowing me to be a friend to those in high society and relative safety.

"Do you know if Draco is alright?" I hear the highly annoying, simpering voice of Pansy Parkinson ask me.

I purse my lips not wanting to discuss something that could draw unwanted attention to me and therefore my lineage, but I know that Pansy would never get over her feelings for Draco. She is quite blind to the detached air he picked up early our Fifth Year. "Honestly, Pansy, I haven't heard from him in ages," I finally reply, carefully keeping my voice in check. "I haven't seen a letter all summer and even last year he rarely spoke to me." I would not let her know how much it hurt me I hadn't heard from him in so long. I would not admit to myself how utterly alone it made me feel to know he did not care for me enough to send me a post.

I glance at her out of the corner of my eye to see her face crumple in absolute concern. _Yes_, I thought,_not even his rumored girlfriend has heard from him._

"I worry about him." Her concerned whisper pierces through my thoughts. "He could be dead for all we know."

"No," I say with a shake of my head casting my eyes down and whispering with barely a sound as we pass the Death Eaters, "the Dark Lord uses Draco against Lucius and Narcissa. Draco is His blackmail to ensure that they will do something of value. They better hope to do something magnificent or they will all be lost."

She stops and stares forward with a stricken look on her face. Her parents really need to bare the ugly dark secrets to her. Her and her family could be thrown into terrible danger with her ignorant mouth.

I move away from her and caught up to Theodore, my only other true friend after Draco. We climb onto a thestral drawn carriage silently and stay lost in our own thoughts. We enjoy our silent moments, able to sit side by side for companionship, but not needing to talk. Our reverie is shattered by the bright, cozy light of the Great Hall. Strange that the school is as lit up as any other year, but the Hall itself is quite different to years gone by; His presence seems to loom over the school. Silence broken by whispers has quite a chilling effect.

My eyes roam over the hunched and huddled students to the staff table. My eyes light upon Professor Severus Snape. It appears that a murderer does not look any different after the deed is done and, though ugly, blood-hungry Death Eaters can look like that dirty bloke on the street in London seen the other day. I find this both disappointing and disturbing. How are "good" people suppose to know when confronted with someone who has committed a terrible crime? How am I supposed to know who to avoid?

I think my days here are numbered.

"Daph, you really need to eat something," Teddy says quietly seeing as I had pushed my food around my plate for a good thirty minutes. I thought my play at eating had been very good.

"Have you seen the Carrows?" I whisper, perhaps a bit too loudly as a couple of heads turn my way.

Teddy frowns at my recklessness. "Yes, but try thinking of how hungry you will be around midnight when you will then decide to venture to the kitchens for a piece of chocolate cake and coffee. Imagine that you are caught before you ever make it and then have to deal with one of those two up close and personal."

I wrinkle my nose. "Oh, Teddy, now I have completely lost my appetite," I reply, earning a soft chuckle.

Thank goodness Snape apparently wants to make a fool of his self following in Professor Dumbledore's footsteps with a short speech before sending us off. "This year is a step toward a new age; a golden age of pure beauty and rightful positions."

I decide that McGonagall looked like she has swallowed a lemon and I was truly worried that that great oaf, Hagrid, would act upon whatever murderous thoughts are more than likely floating behind that hateful expression.

"I hope that in my first year as Headmaster I can build upon what Albus Dumbledore has left us. He was a brilliant man."

He was a brilliant man. A wave of confusion washes through the hall. He may be hiding behind that line, but it doesn't seem to fit the murderer persona. I eye the man once more. He is completely unchanged since last I had seen him at the end of my sixth year, his long greasy black hair falling in curtains around his sallow face and cold, black eyes. Remembering my disappointment of his appearance, I suddenly wonder what the Dark Lord looked like.

Thinking of the Dark Lord can be quite suicidal.


	3. Protection

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**Chapter Two**  
_Protection_

_The pale blonde boy held his wand out in a pose. "I will protect you, Daphne!"_

He jumped down from the rock on which he stood and wrapped an arm protectively around the dark-haired girl who was laughing at him. He aimed his wand at an invisible foe. "I will cut Him down and hold you close."

The boy gripped the girl's shoulders and gazed into her eyes losing all humor. "You are not mud. You are not below my family or my self. You are beautiful and one of the strongest people in the wizarding world. I love you, Daphne." 

He is not here. He is not safe. He may already be dead.

It had been our first year. Already we had banded together as best friends. Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Black, heir of Malfoy Manor, and Daphne Greengrass, daughter of Muggles, heir of nothing in particular. No one was pleased with our friendship.

Pansy Parkinson had been jealous, still is for all I know, and had cornered me in the halls singing at the top of her lungs that I was a poseur-a fake. She had accused me of being a Mudblood, unknowing how right she was, turning the bustling corridor into a silent tomb. Draco had stepped forward and asked why he had never heard of the Parkinson family before.

He had grasped my wrist and led me away while Pansy turned a lovely shade of splotchy pink and sputtered, completely unable to speak.

I closed my eyes only to be confronted with his trouble-matured face of last year. I had grown so worried about him. He had withdrawn from his friends and had undoubtedly been doing something unspeakable-something for the Dark Lord. It is said he was supposed to kill Professor Dumbledore. If so, then he failed the Dark Lord. And the Malfoys' current lowly position would be quite understandable.

He doesn't look favorably on those that fail.

"You are the one who needs protecting, Draco," I whisper to the air. I dash the tears from my eyes refusing to dwell on the past-to worry about the young man that has changed so utterly.

It is unsafe to contemplate things that involve the Dark Lord-Him, his minions, or Harry Potter. Rather it is not safe unless you know Occlumency, but this is an advanced skill that I do not know.

Perhaps I should learn it.

You see, He is a master of legilimency, the art of extracting emotions and memories from one's mind. Fearful, isn't it? So the rumors that say He can read minds? Pretty much correct, though it isn't quite as simple as reading a book. I do not fear Him searching for me and finding me; I fear that some of the Death Eaters might also Legilimens. If so, then I am not hidden well enough.

I may as well just roll over now.

I need to stop thinking these dark thoughts, "Him, Harry Potter, Death Eaters, and Draco." They are not safe thoughts. They would draw unwanted interest if they were to be stumbled across.

I must focus on my schoolwork and try to enjoy my days. Live each day as though I have nothing to fear like my Housemates; are Slytherins, after all.

Nothing to fear? Well, very little, at least. As a Slytherin, one is believed to be pure of blood and have a parent following or in cohorts with the Dark Lord. As a Slytherin, one is fairly safe. Nothing to fear.

But of course, one wrong move, and there is everything to fear.

I shall check out a book on Occlumency. I'll tell Madame Pince it is an extra credit report for Defense Against the Dark Arts.

She won't say a word to our beloved Headmaster nor either of the horrid Carrows.

Nope, not a word.

-

"Daph."

"_Daph._"

"_Daphne._"

I looked away from Severus Snape's dead stare and turned to Teddy. "What?"

"Didn't you say that eye contact was the first thing to avoid? Isn't it the first rule?"

He had a good point.

"Do you really think Snape is a Legilmens?" I asked sarcastically.

We both looked at Snape at the head table in the Great Hall. He was watching Professors Flitwick and McGonagall with a slight frown.

Then he turned to us.

And nodded to me with lips slightly curled.

"Yes. Yes, I think he is a Legilmens," Teddy said pointlessly after we had both quickly returned to our meal.

"Crap."

"What?"

"Nothing," I said too quickly. I cursed myself as Teddy gave me a look. But he knew me, he didn't ask.

Good boy.

I stared intently at my potatoes no longer hungry. What had he seen? What had he learned? I desperately tried to remember what I had been thinking about, grasping at the quickly draining water, unable to grab and hold for scrutiny.

The next few days went by in a blur; I was too afraid to act like an innocent Slytherin. I knew from the comments from my friends and fellow students that I looked different. I could guess I looked scared or guilty. Luckily the other Slytherins weren't paying much attention to my odd behavior. What had I done? Why had I allowed myself to be so careless? After all the work I had started to put into teaching myself Occlumency, here I was at square one. 

I was royally, bloody screwed.

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	4. Pretend

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**Chapter Three**

**_Pretend_**

The screaming echoes in my head though the voice has long since fallen silent. I couldn't help it. She didn't deserve it. None of them do. I feel their pain.

Luna Lovegood lies curled up on the ground her mouth gaping open in a silent scream. Her voice had only just given out from her raw throat. Yet, Carrow continued to egg Gregory Goyle on. This has been the only thing the slob had managed to master, the Cruciatus Curse.

Disgustingly, I wasn't surprised.

He wielded that wand like he had known how to cast that spell his whole life, like he was destined to bring pain and misery, but nothing else.

Once more, I was not surprised.

My eyes have been closed for about fifteen minutes now. My resolve has dissolved; my common sense has disapperated. I could no longer pretend that this didn't affect me.

I stood up, causing Goyle to lose his concentration and Carrow to look at me with suspicion. I heard a quiet hiss from my left, Teddy warning me to not stir the pot. "Stop it," I found myself say in a strangled voice. Everyone was looking at me now, Slytherins with disappointment and Ravenclaws with disgust. A Slytherin with a soul? How poetic. "She has nearly broken," I state, my voice stronger. "He wouldn't be happy."

Everyone was silent. Everyone knew whom I had spoken of. Everyone understood. The Dark Lord uses children as blackmail, just like Draco and his family, Luna is another one of His playing piece, yet another one that could give Him an upper hand.

The bell rang, and I dropped my eyes, feigning embarrassment, which would be the correct reaction for a Pureblood Slytherin who let her emotions get the better of her.

I was able to escape without many glances earning only few from Teddy, a couple of nameless Ravenclaws, and Luna Lovegood.

I really didn't want Looney Loopy Lovegood's thoughtful eyes on me I may find myself wanting to join her and her friends. A group of students putting forth their best efforts to resist would not be a good place for me.

"What was that?"

I peaked at Teddy beside me. "What was what?" I asked innocently.

"That display of spine. Defending a trouble maker, one believed to be a part of Dumbledore's Army-you're going to be found." He shook his head in annoyance. "Your choices are: your safety or helping those that are stirring trouble they shouldn't be sticking their noses in It shouldn't be much of a decision."

I found myself suddenly dizzy due to an onslaught of thoughts flooding my mind. I stopped and leaned against a wall for support and looked at Teddy. "I can't pretend that using an Unforgivable is right. Not any more," I admitted to Teddy as much as to myself. "I guess I am going to help those stirring trouble. I'll do it carefully. I have no wish to find myself in front of the Muggle-born Registration Commission." I started walking away, ending the conversation abruptly. I forced my mind from the fearful thoughts that the Commission conjured in my imagination.

I couldn't help the unconscious shiver, though.

Of course, I was right about Luna Lovegood. A couple of days later, I found myself walking down a sunny corridor by myself only to be encountered by Lovegood.

"Who are you?" she asked.

I frowned at the young Ravenclaw woman. "Daphne Greengrass."

"No… Who _are_ you?"

This is exactly why I had not wanted to speak to her. The hairs at the back of my neck started to stir.

Lovegood made my skin crawl with her large innocent-seeming eyes. I tended to avoid her at all costs. I was wondering if one of her unbelievable creatures had told her that I was a Mudblood. "What do you mean, Lovegood?"

"You lie to yourself and to all of those around you," she replied quietly as though she was just as intrigued by what she was saying as I. "Do you believe in the inhumanity displayed by your fellow Slytherins? Do you enjoy pretending to enjoy the perverted things we are forced do in school?"

"No," I whispered. She had me pegged pretty well.

She smiled serenely. "I thought so."

And so it seems I had been accepted. By what, I haven't the foggiest. By who, I didn't care.

I felt as though I belonged and as though I was no longer pretending. That was all that mattered to me anymore.

I soon found out what I had gotten myself into one night when Luna suggested that I meet her in a certain corridor on the fourth floor at three in the morning. I thought the time was a bit odd but was much more surprised.

She quickly and effectively explained her plan to paint a blaring and brilliant message on the wall. I loved drawing and had always enjoyed drawing on the wall; it was the perfect canvas, not constricting like the perfect white walls of my parents' house. A grin spread across my face in my agreement to the plan as we started our work.

The following day was riotous. Snape was in an uproar as were the Carrow's, but no one could discover the culprit. We had been very careful. Students stopped to watch Filch ineffectively scrub at the wall.

I had suggested a Permanent-Sticking Curse.

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	5. Stupidity

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**Chapter Four**

_Stupidity_

I was pacing in front of Teddy. "You know very well you are playing a dangerous game," he said.

"What game?" I asked him distractedly.

"This game with that teenagers' gang, Dumbledore's Army. Yes, I know that's what you have been up to these past months. It is whatever is occupying your mind at this very moment. You are going to be caught. We both know how paramount this is compared to that notion."

I glanced at Teddy-Theodore Nott, the son of Edward Nott the Death Eater. Teddy was supposed to follow his father, but Teddy really didn't want to. He wasn't like most Slytherins; he felt that, though Purebloods are superior, we shouldn't rid ourselves of Muggle-borns and mixed breeds. He had come to the understanding that this was Nature's way of adding to the diminishing numbers. He also felt that a Mudblood Slytherin would be good, a way to show that Mudbloods can have the correct mindset.

I sat next to him and scooted closer. "I can't stop, Teddy," I whispered conspiratorially. "I know what is happening outside of these walls. I know the abominations that are being done and the hate being milked. I know the pain and the suffering. I've heard it."

"Heard it?"

"Yes. If you listen, you can hear it."

I knew what I meant, but I couldn't get him to understand. I could tell that I had confused Teddy since I earned a look from him. One that said he thought I had lost my mind.

"Please, just don't think about my stupidity."

He and I both knew this request was not for his peace of mind but for my safety. My Occlumency was strong and could be relied on, but Teddy wasn't worried about learning.

*

_Guess the Blood Purity 1/4 1/8 1/9 1/10 ½ 1/6 1/7 1/16 1/8 1/5 1/4 1/8 1/9 1/10 ½ 1/6 1/7 1/16 1/8 1/5 1/3 1/9 1/3 1/9 1/4 1/8 1/9 1/10 ½ 1/6 1/7 1/16 1/8 1/5 1/3 1/9 1/4 1/8 1/9 1/10 ½ 1/6 1/7 1/16 1/8 1/5 1/3 1/9 1/4 1/8 1/9 1/10 1/4 1/8 1/9 1/10 ½ 1/6 1/7 1/16 1/8 1/5 1/3 1/9 ½ 1/6 1/7 1/16 1/8 1/5 1/3 1/9 1/4 1/8 1/9 1/10 ½ 1/6 1/71/4 1/8 1/9 1/10 ½ 1/6 1/7 1/16 1/8 1/5 1/3 1/9 1/16 1/8 1/5 1/3 1/9…? _

Picture, if you will, a wall of chalkboards. Now, add to it sprawling harsh white chalked fractions covering every centimeter of the board. It took me over three tension filled hour during which I jumped at every sound and had to hide and cast a light illusion charm over my unfinished work a couple of times as someone would walk by the room. My work the previous night left me dead tired when I walked into my Muggle Studies class the following morning. The whispering and look on her face were worth it, though.

Days before my stunt for today, Neville Longbottom had asked Professor Alecto Carrow how pure her blood was. A few words were exchanged resulting in Carrow loosing her control and punishing Neville with some dark spell. I say "some" because I do not know the spell because my I have not learned about the perverted working of Dark magic by any teacher or acquaintance. I am happy to announce that Neville cannot be punished for this particular crime because he is lying in a bed in the Hospital Wing unconscious. But his point has been repeated.

Repetitiously and loudly.

Alecto Carrow glared in her fury at her class and her eyes landed on me. She grinned triumphantly and turned to the bored erasing her embarrassment.

It seems I had surpassed simple stupidity.

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	6. Reminiscence

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**Chapter Five**

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_Reminiscence_

It had been days since I thought of him. With classes, Occlumency, and Dumbledore's Army, I had been too busy. How could I have been so selfish? How could I have been so cold? I had, indeed, been playing the part of the Pureblood Slytherin. Not a care in the world. While he suffered at His hand, I had forgotten to fear. Draco wouldn't have a chance to forget.

I had thought that I live a nightmarish ghost of a life, but it is Draco that truly does. As long as I am careful, I can forget. As long as I pretend, I can forget. Draco isn't given the choice to escape.

The pain of his absence, of his danger, came crashing back on me today. I received a letter from him. How he managed to send a post is beyond me. But he had managed to let me know that he is was—what?

The letter-well, note really-was filled with quaint pleasantries in which he hinted at several horrifying occurrences. He would veer and skirt around back to some such thing as trivial and mundane as his mother's new dress that he thought I would like only to return to the morbid. These unknown worries wear at me. I do not like it when too many dangerous secrets are piled up against those I love and myself. It threatens to fall over and destroy the already precarious life I have.

I can't help but to remember years gone by; a time when there were no worries to stain the innocence of children.

Oh, to be young and innocent again.

_"Daphne?"_

__

The girl looked up from her books quill stilling in her hand, "What? I need to get this Charms essay done."

"Oh, you'll be fine. We both know you know the differences between the summoning charm and the levitation charm wand movements," the boy laughed. "Have I complimented you today?"

The girl blinked. "Erm, no. Why-do you feel you have to?"

He chuckled as he dropped his quill and grabbed a sugar quill to suck on the feathered end. "No one appreciates you."

She frowned at this and felt compelled to reply. "What are you talking about?"

He sighed seemingly working himself up to reply. "Well, it's just… you're beautiful."

She made to deny this fact, but he continued. "Hold on. Let me finish. You're brilliant, good marks while getting away with way too much and incredibly witty thoughts to throw at Parkinson. You're strong and independent. A Muggle-born Slytherin. That says so much right there—and your attractive."

_A silence lapsed over the two as the girl tried to figure out what to say, and he waited to find what her reply to something so potentially catastrophic would be. But she never found her chance to reply for Vincent Crabbe-a thick headed, and bodied-boy entered the library where they were sitting and hurried over to them._

I sighed as I folded the note meticulously and tucked it in bottom of my mahogany treasure box with the feeble few other notes and scribbles from Draco. Things he had taken the time to write to me during the past distant year. I placed the false bottom over the notes and tossed my jewelry back in. I had no care for the fancy body ornaments but for the little scripted thoughts that could end in either of our deaths.


	7. Similarities

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**Chapter Six**

_Similarities_

I was face-to-face with the murderer-the traitor: Professor Severus Snape. He grabbed my wrist as I tried to turn as he spoke quietly and quickly, "Young Malfoy is safe. Stop filling your mind with thoughts that are so disastrous. You are smart; use your brain. You know what is safe to think and what is not."

I opened my mouth but found I hadn't a clue what to say. I was shocked that he had seen my thoughts and feelings that day. "What else?" I asked as he seemed on the verge of saying more.

His eyes flicked from mine to the passage behind me. "I know you are Muggle-born," he replied. "You are no longer safe. They know." His black eyes flashed-with concern? Or perhaps appreciation? I find it impossible to read this man. "Your Occlumency will protect you seeing as how you have blocked your mind effectively since your slip. You cannot stay though. Go to wherever it is your brat friends have hidden."

I was rather confused. Isn't murder evil-a sin? Wouldn't a murderer be evil? Why would this murderer help me?

"You may be a Mudblood," he spat the word contemptuously, "but you are just as important, if not more, than any Pureblood. Do not repeat a word of this conversation to another soul; do not even think it. It was not me who warned you."

He glanced down the corridor toward the distant sound of approaching footsteps, his face impassive, before continuing hurriedly, "Do not speak of this conversation. Use what I have told you to your advantage. I will not give you away. That is up to you."

With that he swept down the corridor, robes billowing in the still air. In the blink of an eye, the darkness had swallowed him like the Muggle-born Registration Commission swallowing one more Mudblood-cleansing our blood of filth.

I heard his voice, indistinct but his nonetheless. It was answered by a Carrow. Now was the time- time to go into hiding.

As I ran down corridors, I found myself thinking of Anne Frank. The J ew, inferior to a superior race, hiding amongst them, protected by them. I believe she was discovered.

Please let that be where our similarities end.

-

I had been trusted enough amongst Dumbledore's Army in that I was shown to the concealed hideaway my partners had found a few weeks back. Even though they had accepted me, they hadn't fully trusted me. Being searched for by the Death Eaters due to her now publicly acknowledged blood status and lending her talents and hands to the many jobs required by the D.A. One would be quite surprised what members of a renegade troupe can come up with to harass, antagonize, and recruit.

The hideout was a room they referred to as the Room of Requirement. I learned that Neville could get it to protect us perfectly and provide for us. It was a cavernous room with walls that looked to be rough wood. There were bright hammocks that hung from the ceiling and the balcony along with House tapestries. It did not escape my notice that Slytherin was exempt from the display, but I did not suggest the silver snake be hung for the House held the Dark of Him and His followers.

It would have been despicable of me to suggest such a thing.

As weeks drifted by, we watched the room change and shift for the growing numbers hidden in the school. We continued to work with each other on charms and other handy spells. We read books and, of course, we plotted campaigns. Much of what we did was simple vandalism: tagging several walls with the letter 'D.A.' in vastly large deep blue script and half-moon spectacles perched atop the D to represent, what else, but Dumbledore's Army. We also painted vibrant images of the Gryffindor lion, Ravenclaw raven, and Hufflepuff badger with the Slytherin snake in some way beaten down such as in the raven's claw. The graffiti was to boast morale and we did this along with aiding the students that stayed amongst the general student population.

I must say, one of our most impressive examples was the escape of the Gryffindor Colin Creevy.

Colin's pictures displayed an ugly truth in a most intriguing way. Muggle photographs, unmoving and unnerving, are a brilliant medium to depict the pain and fear in the faces of Hogwarts students. To name and display the photos in the hallways had taken guts.

_Misery and Hate: the Creation of Animals_

I had felt like laughing through my teary eyes for a week.

They may not have truly understood the name, but the Carrow's did understand that the little man was standing up for him self.

We couldn't leave Colin to be prey to the Carrow's love of punishment. So, before the dreadfully, painful deeds started, we freed the kid from the reopened dungeons and laughed uproariously at the enormous frustration we created.

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	8. Hope

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**Chapter Seven**

_Hope_

Luna had long ago disappeared, not having returned after Christmas break; Ginny had not returned after Easter. We received letters from each notifying us of their safety. Micheal Corner had just landed himself in the dungeons after unsuccessfully trying to help a poor first year that had been chained where Micheal now sleeps. I was becoming listless and so I started planning my own bit of revenge.

Dumbledore's Army has been brought to a halt but the students need to see something or their hopes will be lost.

It wasn't hard to slip into the common room nor was it hard to tiptoe into the boys' dorm. In less then a thought I had snitched Crabbe and Goyle's wands.

Several hours later I replaced them, tired but thoroughly satisfied with my tedious work.

We had many reports of Crabbe and Goyle's day. All day their wands backfired. In Charms classes the wand caused the caster to sprout the canary feathers that the object in front of him was undoubtedly suppose to assume. In Dark Arts the caster was reduced to fits of screaming as he found the pain of the Cruciatus Cruse thrust upon him instead of his victim.

At the end of the day both boys were afraid of their shadows. What was so great was that fellow students witnessed two of the greatest bullies reduced to sniveling cowards and that for this stunt the caster of the spells was Crabbe and Goyle. My spell on their wands deteriorated by the end of the day and was not traceable.

Hopes soared the rest of the day.

But the tension was bound to break and it wasn't expected to be much longer. We didn't have long to wait.

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	9. Love and War

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**Chapter Eight**

_Love and War_

Dinner with Teddy called me away and led to me missing Harry Potter's arrival to the school and the beginning of the war.

"What was that?" I whispered moments after the school settled from rocking on its foundation.

Teddy looked as puzzled as I felt as he stood up and slipped to the portrait hole of our secluded secret room and glanced into the corridor. "Go back to the D.A's safe place," he whispered back to me. "All of the students are in the corridors. Something's wrong. We need to be where we are meant to be."

"Alright. Teddy, please, be careful."

He smiled the only real smile I had ever seen grace his features, "I can't promise anything; but I'll try if you do." Before I could reply he slipped through the hole and was swallowed by the heaving crowd that swelled in the corridor.

I found myself a bit bemused by people saying interesting things to me then turn away and be swallowed by the night, by the darkness, or by a crowd. I wondered if I would ever be able to have a dramatic scene like them.

The corridors were already clearing when I spotted a pale head I knew all too well. My heart leapt into my throat as Draco stopped in front of me the swarming mass of bodies flowed around us and left a small oval of calm that reminded me oh-to-much of a calm before the storm. His pale pointed face was just as troubled as ever but he seemed to have aged even more since the last time I had seen him. He looked drawn and fitful-the side effects of finding one's self on His bad side.

"Daphne."

"Draco. Oh, Draco. Please. Whatever it is you are doing. Stop. Just be yourself and leave this behind you." I found myself begging the young Malfoy like any lowly Mudblood, but I wanted him to be the young, innocent boy I remembered-the boy who refused to acknowledge the cruelty of blood ideals. I wanted him to protect me like he promised. I wanted him to forget this silly war.

"I know you wouldn't want to hurt any one. You don't want any of this." I gestured to the frightened and distressed students around us that were now starting to cry and to call out in fear. "You hate it. I can see it in your eyes." As I said spoke of his eyes he let them slide off of my face and focus somewhere behind me.

"Daph," he said quietly, "I have to get Potter. It's family honor; you wouldn't understand."

"But I do," I cried at him as he walked past me and started to head in the direction he had been staring at. I grabbed him and forced him to look at me. "I gave up pretending. I am proud of my family and to acknowledge their love is a great honor."

He slipped from my rough embrace. I snatched his cloak stopping him and forcing him to look at me one more time.

"Please Draco… I love you."

His face remained impassive as he turned away from me and was swallowed by that hateful darkness.

_Flashes of light._

A darkly beautiful display of fireworks a hundred times more deadly and sinister than those that celebrate. Splotches of ruby red pool on the ground and ornament the walls and I try not to look at them too long. I may notice a fallen man and recognize him.

Couples fight here and there. Three fighters my age take on one cloaked figure. A laugh as this fighter falls-a shriek of hate; a shriek of delight.

The worst in mankind is bought out by war; the thirst for blood and willingness for violence and hate. I empty the content of my stomach and continue to cough from smoke-a wall has come down.

_Oh, what has our beloved school come to?_

I catch sight of long blonde hair causing my heart to skip a beat but it is only Lucius Malfoy, Draco's father. He appears half mad with fear. A quick slip into his mind reveals he is searching for Severus Snape by the Dark Lord's orders. I delve deeper into his mind for the true cause of the fear I see so obviously etched across his elegant and regal feature and am struck by a fatal blow.

_The face of Lord Voldemort looks down at me with no facial expression besides a curl of the lip. There is nothing else to express His thoughts. "My Lord, please…my son…" I hear myself say._

_"Your son is dead, Lucius. It is not my fault. He did not join us like the rest of the Slytherin students-"_

I gasped as I stumbled out the door onto the Hogwarts grounds escaping the mind of Lucius. Fighting rages around me here just as it had inside the sacred halls of learning but only one thought is on my mind: Draco has been killed.

_There is nothing left for me here._

My life is done.

I, in my delirium, distantly recognize Luna as she duels yet another hooded figure. She slowly beats back the Death Eater and delivers a final blow knocking her opponent to the ground. She turns to race to a nearby group.

Luna doesn't notice the figure she had seemingly just defeated struggle upright and aim. I do, but I am not quick enough to correctly form the Shielding Charm as I throw myself between Luna and the jet of deadly green light. Because of the ill cast Charm the spell is able to find small holes and to reach me but not enough reach my body to kill me quickly, so I die slowly. At least enough of my Charm had been cast well enough to rebound the Curse and kill the Death Eater.

As death approaches I reach out my mind to Luna. It is then that I realize that she had known my part to be played in this story on the day that I had helped her. And with a jolt I understand that Severus Snape had also known some how. My money was on Dumbledore having shared the knowledge with Snape.

I focused on Luna's senses and thoughts as my vision darkened. I drew my mind away from my own death.

_The dementors approached Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger after a flicker of silvery light extinguished. I cried out and my voice united with two others, "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"_

__

Our joys flew to the aide of our friends in silvery, spectral animal shapes and we joined their side. I spoke quietly to Harry to remind him that we are there. "That's right. That's right, Harry… come on, think of something happy…"

"Something happy?" Harry asked his voice cracking.

_"We're all still here," I whispered, "we're all still fighting. Come on now…"_

Ah, help Luna to help Harry Potter. He will end this horrid war.

Pity I didn't get to see the end.


	10. Epilogue: The Mudblood Slytherin

********

**Epilogue**

_The Mudblood Slytherin_

It was too strange and too awkward to stay. I begged mother and father to get moving. I didn't want to stay here amongst true heroes any longer. We were fouling the already tainted joy in the air.

As we made to leave a shock of blood red hair caught my eye. I swiftly walked over to the lonely body whose summer green eyes held no summer warmth. Her porcelain doll face seemed content, as though she had greeted her death. I stared upon her face willing her to smile-to blink. I willed her to breathe with life and refused to acknowledge death though my sight became blurred with unshed tears.

A hand passed over her angelic face to close her unseeing eyes. I looked up ready to defend my position beside my dearly departed love whom many would have believed I didn't truly care for.

The grief-stricken face was framed by curling chocolate tresses and I was shocked to see warm summer green eyes inspecting me. "Draco Malfoy." It was a statement not a question.

"Yes."

"I'm Astoria," she said quietly her voice heavy with grief. "I'm Daphne's little sister." I could not bear the pain of seeing those summery eyes chill with rain. I pulled her into my arms and she cried on my shoulder.

This holocaust has come to a close taking with it a final victim, the Mudblood Slytherin.

********

**End.**


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